


Untitled

by Guardy



Series: Equinox [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunk Texting, Gen, platonic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 03:13:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12998616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardy/pseuds/Guardy
Summary: ... in which Val gets a tad too tipsy, gets lost, and accidentally drunk-texts his favorite professor/mentor.It's platonic, I swear. And anyway, Absalom is happily married to the guy he named his cat after. Long story.(I need to stop writing AUs for my own stories augh)





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> My working title was Professor Mom, buttttt somehow I feel like somebody would have taken that the wrong way.
> 
> This is from a time when Val was still the protagonist of that project. Now he isn't. Still don't know how that happened.
> 
> This was just a tiny doodle of a story I threw together because I was bored; it's not exactly beta-read or anything, and idk. It's corny, but I might as well post it anyway.
> 
> (And yeah, Absalom named his cat Severin, after his long-vanished best buddy he had one hell of a crush on. And then the best buddy reappeared shortly after. And now the cat mostly gets called 'cat'. Absalom is a sap.)
> 
> (It's set in a fictional European country, by the way, mostly by virtue of me studying in Germany, so that's all I know)

Professor Absalom Hayes had looked forward to going to bed at a reasonable time for once. It was Saturday, it was almost midnight and he had most certainly done enough work for the day. But it wasn’t meant to be - as he shut down his PC, he suddenly heard his mobile phone beep with a new message. He sighed and went to look for it: not many people had his phone number and very few of them would use it casually, except for his mate, and well… that wouldn’t have been a bad thing right now, anyway.

He unlocked his screen and read the message flashing on it.

Paused.

Read over it again.

“Mom im drukn n lost” it read - sent by Valère Lovell.

Mr. Lovell was one of Abslom’s students; a bright, promising young man currently writing his Master’s Thesis under Absalom’s tutelage.

How peculiar.

“I think you have the wrong number,” Absalom wrote back, but barely a second later the next message arrived.

“Im scared plz help”

Ah, screw it.

“Where are you?”

“Idk

Thers a bra

Teh Golden Eagle

*bar

Aslo a park

Im @ teh cornrer of ut”

The Golden Eagle was a drab, cheap source of alcohol and bad music commonly frequented by students. He was quite familiar with the general area - he’d been young once, too, after all - and it was most decidedly not a good area to wander around lost and drunk at night.

“I’ll come pick you up. Stay where you are.”

“K thx mom”

Absalom sighed and grabbed his coat and keys.

His cat hopped up onto the shelf next to the door and meowed.

“I know, buddy,” Absalom said and buttoned up his coat, “I’ll be back soon, I hope.”

“Mreow.”

“Right. Don’t break my stuff while I’m gone, okay?”

“Mrrrr?”

Shaking his head, Absalom stepped outside and closed the door.

The closer Absalom got to his destination, the more he worried - Mr. Lovell normally wasn’t the type to get sloshed and lose his way, so heaven knew what had led to this situation in the first place.

As he reached the corner of the park, he instantly spotted his student - he looked terrified and he wasn’t alone. Three young men had him cornered; one of them - almost two heads taller than the rather short Mr. Lovell - loomed over him, in a decidedly unfriendly manner. As he drove by searching for a spot to park his car, he could see the situation escalate. He parked his car and bolted out of it, running over to the young men as fast as he could.

He made it just in time to tackle the looming one, who’d been preparing to punch Valère in the face. The man landed on his ass and stared at Abslom as if he’d seen a ghost.

Absalom recognized him as one of the students; he’d often seen him around.

“Leave,” he growled, making good use of his element of surprise. And indeed, the three thugs instantly took off running.

Absalom turned around and found Valère sitting on the floor, staring at him with wide eyes, pure adoration shining on his face.

It was rather bewildering, really.

“Are you okay?” Absalom asked quietly.

A wordless nod.

“Good. Let’s get you home, shall we?”

Another nod, then the man stood up.

He wasn’t perfectly steady, but didn’t seem nearly as drunk as Absalom had feared.

After some prodding, Absalom manged to get his home address out of him and off they drove.

It was a decently long drive through most of the city, and Valère spent all of it completely silent, almost unresponsive, which started to unsettle Abslom quite a bit.

“You sure you’re okay? How drunk are you, exactly? Should I better get you to the hospital?”

A short silence, while Valère considered that.

“’M not okay. Not all that drunk, either, though. Just… shaken. Not a good evening. Very bad.”

“Ah.” Pause. “Anything I’d have to worry about?”

“Humans are assholes. ‘S that count?”

“Probably? If you want to talk about it, please do. That over there is your place, right?”

A shabby block of tiny, run-down flats.

Absalom cringed.

“Yeah,” Val answered. Hesitated. Added: “Guess that’s goodbye then, eh?”

Absalom gave him a quick once-over - the poor sod was pale and seemed rather out-of-it in a not entirely alcohol-induced way - and shook his head.

“I’d rather stay with you until I can be absolutely sure that you’re going to be okay. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Yes, please,” was the quiet answer.

“Good,” Absalom Hayes answered and stepped out of the car.

He walked over to the other side, opened Val’s door for him, very carefully helped him up and steadied him with a hand on his scrawny elbow, likely quite unnecessarily.

“Let’s go, then.”

A few minutes of walking, stair-climbing and a lot of key-related fumbling, they finally stepped into Valère’s dingy little flat. It was run-down and tiny, but it did have a very tiny living room, the smallest kitchen Absalom had ever seen, as well as two more rooms - likely a bathroom and a bedroom.

Absalom helped the young man in any way he could - hanging up the coat he had carelessly dropped, catching him when he fell over his shoes which he had simply kicked aside and left lying in the middle of the floor.

Finally, Val was definitely and undoubtedly ready to go to bed… and yet he kept stalling.

Absalom wasn’t entire comfortable saying something about it - Val seemed to think he was being subtle - but after almost 20 minutes of Val aimlessly shuffling around the flat, it slowly became unavoidable.

“Mr. Lovell,” he asked, “is there a problem?”

A long, long silence while a veritable war was raging within the poor man’s mind.

“Are you…” he finally asked, “are you going to leave when I go to bed?”

Absalom sighed, Val’s forlorn tone both touching and unsettling him.

“Do you want me to?” he asked back.

The answer was instant, a very clear “no!”, full of conviction.

 

“Not yet, anyway,” he amended, “I mean, I can hardly ask you to stay for the rest of the night, can I? But… I’d feel safer if you’d… stick around for a bit?”

“Well,” Absalom shrugged, “then that’s what I’m going to do. Does that mean you’ll finally go to sleep?”

A wordless nod, which still unsettled Absalom - doing anything wordlessly was severely out of character for Valère.

Still, the young man calmly retired to his room, closed the door and eventually turned off the light - Absalom could tell because the telltale sliver of light shining through from underneath the door suddenly vanished.

Good. Now what?

Absalom looked around the room, searching for a good place for a nap, but only found a rickety old arm chair opposite the TV, which was likely older than Val himself.

Not something he could possibly sleep in, either - He’d been there, done that and didn’t fancy doing it ever again. In his experience, the floor tended to be far more comfortable.

Which was exactly where he ended up in the end: he set his alarm for 7 AM, bunched up his coat to serve as a makeshift pillow and curled up on the floor before falling into a restless slumber.

 

The next morning, he was ruthlessly ripped from his dreams by a terrified squeak, followed by a quiet curse.

“Professor Hayes, are you okay?”

“Unf. Yes. Damn, how late is it?”

“Half past ten, I think.”

“Ah, crap. Phone must’ve run out of battery; I actually set an alarm.” He sat up and eyed Valère critically.  
“How are you doing?”

“Better, thanks. Bit of a headache, but I guess I deserved that.”

“No, you didn’t… though, you did bring it on yourself, I suppose. What on earth happened to you, anyway?”

“I’ll tell you later. I was just about to make some coffee, do you want any? I’ve got tea, too.”

“That’s awfully nice of you, but I really should be going,” Absalom answered.

“Your decision, Professor, but you look like you could really do with a hot beverage and maybe some toast.”

Absalom sighed wistfully.

“Well, you’re not wrong…”

“I know. So, tea or coffee?”

“Depends on the tea.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see what I have.”

And with that, Val vanished into the kitchen. Absalom followed him to the door-frame and then leaned against it, to avoid getting in the way. Val grabbed a chair, dragged it over to a hanging cupboard, climbed onto the chair and rummaged around for a bit.

“I’ve got earl Grey,” he finally said, sounding muffled, “and English Breakfast, Chai, some sort of green tea, lavender tea, roiboosh and… huh. Apple tea, apparently.”

“Neat!” was Absalom’s delighted comment, to Valère’s obvious amusement.

“Uh, what I wanted to say is… English Breakfast sounds great, thanks.”

“How do you take your tea?” Val asked while fiddling around with the kettle.

“Some milk, no sugar, please.”

“Sure thing, boss!” Val grinned.

Absalom observed him quietly while he was working. He was visibly tired and looked rather pallid - in short, properly hungover, but otherwise normal. Better than yesterday, in any case. Good, that was something.

Val fetched toast and toaster and grabbed some other breakfast things and dragged all of it over to the incredibly tiny kitchen table - with only on chair next to it: the one Val had previously used as a climbing aid.

Absalom started looking around for an alternative. Valère put down a cup of tea in front of the chair, quite forcefully.

“Sit. Down.” He said.

“Ah, but…”

“No, I feel bad enough about you sleeping on the floor already - heck, I had my favorite Professor and Mentor sleeping on my shaggy old carpet. That’s… slightly mortifying. So, please, sit down…” he sighed, “and please tell me that I didn’t say all of that out loud.”

“You mean the ‘favorite professor’ part?” Absalom smiled, “oh please, I know you’re absolutely incapable of flattery. So, I’m honored. Stop being so on edge, it’s starting to creep me out. Besides, you wanted to tell me how the both of us ended up here in the first place, right?”

Val sighed.

“Right. I did say that, I suppose… Well, long story short, my former room mate dragged me to a pretty sizable party. Then he ditched me and ran off with a girl, because having a sex life is apparently more important than not being a complete and utter douchenozzle. I had no idea where I was and was fairly tipsy by then, because I’d sorely underestimated the alcohol content of the punch. Well, asking somebody for help didn’t even occur to me, so I wandered off in search of a bus stop or a subway station and the more I walked, the more I lost my way and the more I panicked. After a while, I finally messaged… someone… and asked for help. Then those thugs stumbled out of the bar and started harassing me and… I basically saw my life flashing before my eyes. And then you came flying out of the dark like fucking Batman and saved my sorry arse. Which was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen anybody do, by the way.”

Absalom smiled.

“Don’t give me too much credit for that, everything happened so fast I hardly had time to think. But when you put it like that…” he laughed, a bit sheepishly, “ye gods, the husband’s going to give me quite a lecture about self-preservation. Again.”

“Again?” Valere asked, “Do you do that kind of thing on a regular basis?”

“Not necessarily on a regular basis, but…” he trailed off and shrugged.

“Listen to your husband, he’s got the right idea.”

“Right, I know.” He stopped abruptly, staring into the distance. “Oh dear.”

“What is it?”

“I just realized that he’s at my place right now, has no idea where I am and my phone is dead, so I probably should get going.”

He gulped down the rest of his tea, hastily pulled on his rather rumpled coat and turned to face Valère.

“Sorry for storming out like that, but he’s gotta be frantic by now.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. Tell him I’m sorry for causing this entire thing in the first place.”

“Will do. You’ll be fine, won’t you?”

“Yeah, sure, don’t worry about me.”

“Well, if you’re ever not fine… you can always talk to me.”

“Thanks, that means a lot. Bye, Mr. Hayes!”

“Bye, Mr. Lovell.”

 

***

 

The first thing Absalom heard when he came home was frantic talking. Oh, great.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, where he found his husband on the phone, half-shouting at heaven knows whom.

“No,” he heard, “he’s not at his office, that’s my goddamn point! I-” he abruptly stopped as he spotted Absalom standing in the doorway.

“He’s here. Sorry, I’ll call later.”

He ended the call without waiting for an answer.

“You,” he snapped. “Where in heaven’s name have you been?”

Absalom stepped into the room, hands raised in a calming gesture.

“It’s a long story. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, my phone’s dead and I didn’t notice-”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence before Severin closed the distance between them and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Forget about that,” he whispered, “you’re here, it’s fine.” A short pause. “I would rather like know what happened, though, so…” he pulled both of them to the couch, “tell me.”

Absalom closed his eyes for a second and leaned back against the heavenly soft cushions.

“You know my master’s thesis student, right?”

“Val Lovell. Short, curly, too honest for his own good.”

“Exactly. Well…” he plugged his phone in, turned it on and handed it to Severin, “he texted me around midnight, fairly drunk. Probably mixed up ‘Home’ and ‘Hayes’ in his contacts. I decided to help him anyway; couldn’t really stand by and do nothing without worrying myself sick for the entire weekend. Turned out he was really more frightened than drunk, and I ended up bringing him home and staying there to make sure he’d be alright. I… I did plan on getting home before you did, but alas, my phone ran out of power and the alarm didn’t go off. And, well, that’s pretty much it.”

Severin said nothing for a while, just sat there with furrowed brows and a pensive look on his face.

“You know,” he finally said, “one thing doesn’t quite add up. “

“Oh, really? What is it?”

“Uh… well, I’m obviously not privy to all the details, but… oh, how do I put this? Valère Lovell is an orphan. He lost his parents as a kid. Apparently spent the rest of his childhood being sent from foster family to foster family and was… not exactly happy about that. In short, he doesn’t have a mom. Or a home, for that matter. So,” he graced Absalom and his shocked expression with a sad smile, “congrats on your new son, momma Hayes.”

“You… are saying that he texted me on purpose?”

“Yes. Which is probably worse, quite frankly.”

Severin didn’t get a reply.

“Absalom,” he asked, “are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. Of course. It’s just… poor kid.”

Another one of Severin’s smiles.

“And that’s exactly why he texted you in particular.”

Another long, long silence.

“Absalom?”

“He’s in your theatre group, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Look out for him, okay?”

Severin nodded and scooted over until he could snuggle against his husband’s side.

“I will, darling. I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> ksdahgksdajhfg right I'll go hide somewhere forever now kthanks


End file.
